


Road to Amaranthine

by SunsetSwish



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: M/M, Snow, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-03
Updated: 2012-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-28 20:28:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunsetSwish/pseuds/SunsetSwish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke left Kirkwall not long after defeating the Arishok and went back to Ferelden, knowing he had a cousin there. Two years later Fenris follows.</p><p>Contains: snow. So far this season we had four days of snow TOTAL. I am pretty much snow-starved at this point and can only deal with this by making it up in a story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Road to Amaranthine

Ends of Fenris' coat brushed the top layer of freshly fallen snow as he walked carefully along the road. Soft powder which fell during the night covered the whole area, erasing all tracks of men and animals left around the inn the day before. No one else has left the building yet, as at dawn it was always the coldest and no one had a business urgent enough to travel through the forest in gray hours of the morning.

Fenris was now grateful for the too-long garment, a coat meant for a human and a big one at that, which used to irritate him with every movement when it flopped around him. It covered his frame completely and left just enough room for his sword if he strapped the scabbard lower. Before leaving for Ferelden Fenris exchanged his old weapon for a slightly smaller one because he didn't wish to attract too much attention to himself during the travel, only enough to intimidate when it was needed.  
There wasn't much left of the things he owned back in Kirkwall. New gloves and bigger gauntlets over them replaced his old ones, long leather sleeves were now covering his arms completely and the breastplate was different as well to fit thicker leathers. The one familiar item, most easy to notice when uncovered, was a strip of red fabric retied safely around his wrist.

What he found most difficult to become accustomed to were the boots. Without a doubt it would amuse Hawke to know how much time Fenris spent on picking a pair. If Fenris would ever have the chance to tell him.  
He had to admit that time for looking wasn't wasted completely and he was rather pleased with them, especially when the snow reached up to his knees at times like now at the edge between fields and the woods where it was gathered in heaps by the north wind.

Between the trees, where that wind couldn't reach anymore the silence was overwhelming. It wasn't quite empty but the feeling of absolute calm filled anyone who passed through and cared to notice. Fenris was slowly coming to understand why people born in the south tended to miss their homeland, no matter how long they have lived in a different climate.

Although the chill was still inside him ever since it settled there, as deep as his bones, Fenris was determined to not allow it to discourage him. By his count he still had half a day of travel ahead of him and he wanted to have enough time margin, should anything that couldn't be predicted happen.

He treaded carefully, avoiding fallen branches hidden underneath white layers. Shadows of the ending night were slowly replaced by cool light from behind the trees at his right, where the sun was about to rise. With more details becoming clearer Fenris could see he wasn't alone in the forest. Light paws left a track cutting through his route, leading into deeper parts to his left.

Older, frozen snow cracked under Fenris' weight, so anything that was living there was alerted early of his presence.

Narrow shadows of tree trunks spread over the white, longer by the minute. Trees weren't growing too close to each other to cover the sky from his sight and Fenris took a moment to compare it with what he knew up to that point. Sunrise never looked this way in Kirkwall. There was always some kind of morning mist or fog brought in from the waters on the days when it was going to rain and sometimes when it happened to be clear, the sky was the color of blood. Everything about that city was ominous. He should have seen it sooner.

Now Hawke wasn't there anymore and even if Fenris wasn't going to see him again that was enough to lift some of the weight off his chest.

It was a new feeling - to not run, to not feel the constant need to hide. For the time being he had a clear purpose and it was the only thing that mattered. This time he would not be distracted from what he wanted.

His pace slowed gradually and finally he came to a stop, turned to the light. Everything ahead was tinted with pink reflected from the sky, which seemed so far away – all frosty gray and stripes of red where the sun was rising. It'd would soon be a clear blue.

Out of the corner of his eye Fenris could see movement – a family of deer made its way through the forest, stopping now and again to listen to branches brushing against each other in the wind in top of the trees and to the squeaking of the frozen snow. They came out of the gray mass of trees in the forest behind them, headed for the fields. They surely saw him but apparently considered no serious threat when he hasn't moved for a while. He didn't turn to see better, letting them pass by peacefully.

Then he continued on his way.

He kept to the edge of the forest, not wishing to lose his way in unknown country in a harsh season. Deep enough that he felt safe from human eyes.

For a time it was owl's pair of golden eyes that followed him warily, the bird itself in its winter coat almost melting into the white around it. It took off flying no sooner than when the elf was already far at the end of the duct.

The view of pure white hills and blue sky over them, welcoming him at the end of the forest nearly took Fenris' breath away. It almost felt like the sight wasn't for him to see and he had walked in on something rare. _He_ was there, though, not anyone else. For once he didn't have to fight for the good things, to steal the time for himself. Something immaterial tugged at his insides, making him causing him to feel almost alien in his own skin.  
Was this how a change for better felt? He couldn't tell yet but he definitely didn't wish for this feeling to end.

* * *

Towards early afternoon the whisper of wind grew louder and clouds began to gather in the sky, making it gray. Some time later first flakes fell to the ground, followed by more and more and he couldn't see far ahead anymore.

Fenris walked along what seemed to be a main road, hopefully the one he aimed for, and here his trail wasn't the only one anymore. It didn't look like many frequented this road, probably because of the conditions. Three lines of footprints which he followed have started to disappear under fresh snow, which meant he wasn't going to catch up with whoever passed through before.

He has already made more than two thirds of the way and changing weather wasn't going to hinder his plans much at this point. Cold started to get into him, however, and Fenris rubbed his hands together under the coat. His nose and cheeks felt absolutely cold and snowflakes carried by a changing wind kept on falling into his eyes.

All things considered, it didn't feel like Fereldan weather was trying to chase him away. If that was the case he wouldn't have made it outside the port city, most likely. It seemed that it was bent on distracting him and making everything harder than it had to be.

He probably deserved that.

Still, he hated the way snow got under his hood and made his hair wet.

There was a possibility of taking a ship all the way to Amaranthine City, but he'd missed it. Conditions were particularly harsh that year on the sea and it left him wandering half of the way along the coast on foot. Now he was almost at his destination.

For a long time there was nothing to look at, except for few trees in the near distance to the north and hills to the southwest. Twice he passed by farmhouses, separated by extensive fields. The landscape became more gray than white, heavy with looming clouds. It stayed unchanging for the majority of the remaining way.

Promise of a major snowfall hung in the air by the time Fenris reached the Keep.

He stopped, looking up at the building and rock behind it towering so close and yet still _out of reach_ and he found that he couldn't take a step forward. The force of doubt kept him in place, unable to move on or turn away from what he wanted and was afraid of at the same time.

Wooden fences standing out ahead marked the direction he should take, the road between them cleared of snow and inviting.

It wouldn't be long before he was spotted and someone would check what he was doing there. He was fine with that – it'd force him to go inside, to face what was there. What _hopefully_ was there. The truth was he had nothing but a name of a relative, someone who might not even be alive anymore, who might not have seen Hawke at all. He had nothing but information from Fereldans he'd met - tales about the mage Warden-Commander once known by the name of Amell, about wardens' keep and Amaranthine.

The only one who probably knew for sure where Hawke was was his brother, who unfortunately was even harder to contact.

Fenris hasn't seen Hawke for almost three years, since the man packed and left Kirkwall without a word to anyone but Aveline and Varric. At that time there were more forces driving him out of the city than those which gave him reasons to stay. It wasn't until Hawke walked out of his life that Fenris realized he lost something he should have held onto instead of slowly but surely chasing it away.

If he was going to have this chance at all, he was going to fix his mistake. If the lead was false and no one inside had a better one to give him, Fenris didn't know what he'd do.

He was close enough to the gates to notice when they were opened and two mabari hounds dashed out, headed straight for him. Two men followed, in significantly less hurry than their dogs. Fenris knew enough of mabari's intelligence to avoid forcing them to consider him an enemy. He let them approach, both growling in a warning but interested in a stranger. They circled, waiting for their handler to come and deal with the intruder. One of them sniffed at his clothes, nudging him with big nose and then barked, turned around and ran back into the front yard, past the two men who finally reached them and addressed Fenris.

"Do you have any business in the Vigil's Keep?"

At the last moment Fenris stopped himself from saying Hawke's name. He had no way to be sure Hawke didn't use a different name for whatever reason. Last thing Fenris wanted was to cause him unnecessary trouble.

"I've come looking for someone who I was told lives here."

"There's quite a few men in the Keep, so you'll have to be more specific" the man paused and gestured to the gates "but for now you should enter. Weather is changing and we will be closing for the evening soon."

In the yard Fenris was asked to wait under a roof until his status was clear. He looked around, taking in the unknown surrounding. People busied themselves around the keep yard, moving some of the equipment away to shelter it from weather. He took note of every glance towards him but none of them was anything more than harmless curiosity.

Soon enough another man was coming towards him, with confidence in his step and clearly a lot more comfortable in Ferelden conditions than Fenris was. His hood was down, uncovering short dark hair. Behind his back a mage's staff was fastened securely, leaving no doubt as to who the man was.

Fenris stood unmoving, waiting for the man to come closer, as if movement could make him disappear like a vision.

It was pointless. The man was not Hawke. It became obvious when he came closer and Fenris saw the difference - the same soft lines, dark hair but eyes completely different, bearing a different light. He was also slightly taller than Fenris remembered Hawke was. The familiarity made the stinging loss inside him increase tenfold. He should have expected this – Hawke's kin, not the man himself.  
That piece of information proved to be true but that didn't confirm that Hawke was anywhere in the area.

"I am told you're not just passing by." The man spoke, his words kind kind enough for a stranger. Fenris was still too used to people being suspicious and cold if not outright hostile.

"I'm looking for someone who might have come here from the Free Marches."

"Well then, do they have a name?" If the mage knew perfectly well who Fenris meant, he didn't show it and before Fenris could answer something else caught his attention completely. The man noticed and frowned, turning to see what so interesting was behind him.

 _Hawke_ was standing there, no more than twenty feet away, with his eyes fixed on Fenris as much as elf's were now on him. At his feet mabari appeared to be very content with itself. How could Fenris not recognize Hawke's hound? The elf now understood the dog's behavior from before. It recognized him while he did not and it ran to fetch Hawke.

Following moments must have looked like a staring match for anyone outside their little circle. Even Fenris didn't know what it was – he and Hawke didn't make a move while Hawke's cousin kept looking between the two of them, waiting for the outcome. It was a wonder the electricity from the tension didn't sting him.

"Fenris." Hawke spoke his name as if it was a spell, pinning down an illusion and making it real.

"I wasn't sure I'd find you."

Daylen moved towards Hawke, apparently relieved he wouldn't have to step in to stop a fight.

"Who is your friend?"

Hawke didn't answer immediately and when he did, Fenris wished he didn't do that at all.

"A ghost... from the past."

Blue eyes narrowed while he spoke and Fenris suddenly felt the chill around get to him more than ever before. Was he supposed to say something to that?

"Why did you come?" There was no coldness in Hawke's voice, however, just curiosity... and suspicion.

"I... needed to see you."

 _I couldn't spend a day more without you._

Fenris knew he was observed closely, judged. In a moment he'd know if he'd be turned away with nothing.

"That's unexpected."

 _Is it unwelcome?_

Hawke stepped closer and reached out to brush the snow off of Fenris' hair. He didn't take his hand back after he did so and Fenris fought the impulse to lean into into the touch, feel the warmth of Hawke's body.

"Of all seasons, you chose winter to follow me?"

Fenris nodded, all eloquence having left him.

 _I couldn't spend a day more without you._

"Were you aiming to impress me?" There was a note of amusement in there. Suddenly it was as if everything that's been a weight on Fenris was lifted with that voice and he finally found his own.

"If I did, is it working?"

"It is, as a matter of fact." Hawke's fingers touched Fenris' cheek. He wasn't wearing gloves, probably didn't bother to take them when going to look what has interested his dog so much. Fenris closed his eyes, leaned into Hawke's hand and placed his own over it, in fear Hawke would withdraw after all.

"Let's get you inside before you freeze your nose off."

When Hawke turned and headed back to the Keep Fenris followed. 


End file.
